


A Pirate's Life For Me

by winter_storm



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Human & Country Names Used, M/M, Magical Accidents, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, UKUS, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:23:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_storm/pseuds/winter_storm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred wants Arthur to go to the beach with him, Arthur doesn't want to go. What does magic have to do with any of this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pirate's Life For Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I sat down saying I’m going to do a fluffy Christmas story because who doesn’t love some Christmas fluff right? Somehow my intention for some Christmassy USUK fluff turned into this. I don’t know how it happened, but I am blaming it on the fact that it was over 80 degrees here on Christmas. (That is my story and I’m sticking to it)  
> Merry belated Christmas everyone,  
> Winter-Storm

There was only so long I could dodge it. I knew sooner or later Alfred would drag me there if I wanted to go or not. He never listened that was just who he was. I have known that since he was a boy. I wasn’t able to say no to him then and I still can’t seem to say no to him now. It was easier now than when he was little though. I suppose between the fact that he was now almost a head taller than me, and at least five times stronger it isn’t surprising that his means of persuasion are slightly less effective now. All the same though he turns those baby blue eyes on me and says please in the most pitiful voice he can muster and I know that the battle is lost before it even starts. 

The current battle I was trying so hard to resist was a trip to, of all places, the beach. I would enjoy frolicking with Alfred, even if I would never tell the boy that. I actually kind of liked our little outings. They were few and far between and always to the most ridiculous of places, but seeing Alfred smile around me after our estrangement for so may years made it worth it. All things considered the beach was actually one of the more reasonable places he had ever suggested. It wasn’t like 7 months ago when he had insisted that we must visit Disneyland since it was the most magical place on earth and I was the most magical country on earth. His logic was terribly flawed, but the trip had been surprisingly fun. 

Everything considered the obvious question to ask is what is so horrid about the beach. As an idea I had nothing against the beach. I was not concerned about the fact that Alfred would poke fun at my slim physique. I was not bothered that I would probably turn as red as a lobster even with liberal sun screen. I didn’t even care that sand would get EVERYWHERE. I am getting off topic however. I had a number of reasons to object to the beach but most of them were trivial things that I would gladly endure for the chance to be with Alfred. The one problem that kept me firm in my resolve that he would not get me anywhere near the beach was the ocean. 

The very thing that defines a beach is the fact that it is on the water you can not have a beach without water. It is true that it didn’t have to be on an ocean, but I knew Alfred and he would say that any beach that wasn’t on an ocean coast would be like cheating. The fact however was that I was flat out terrified of the ocean. I know it is ridiculous considering that I am a country and can’t die even more so considering that I am an Island nation. How could England be afraid of the ocean it was ridiculous. I would not debate the validity of my fear with anyone. I wouldn’t even tell my fear to anyone. I especially refused to tell my fear to Alfred. He would never let me live it down if he knew I was scared stiff by the idea of going anywhere near the ocean.

In truth it wasn’t so much the water itself that frightened me it was . . . I hesitate to even think this due to embarrassment, but the truth of the matter is that I can’t swim. It never seemed like a terribly important skill to me. As I got older it just became embarrassing. I have been around for several centuries and never found the time to learn something so simple. I though about it many times, but then I would feel my cheeks turn a ruddy red at the thought of going to some sort of public facility and taking classes with children. It was a mortifying enough thought to convince me that I had no need to swim. I had gone centuries without the skill surely I could continue without it. I am in fact positive that I would be completely fine if it weren’t for bloody Alfred. I loved the boy though. The idea of him kicking his large feet in the shallow waves that lapped against eh sand with that too bright smile calling to me as I watched from further up on shore made an almost melancholy smile tug at my lips. I would love to share such a scene. However, the price was too steep because I knew that sooner or later Alfred would not take no for an answer and forcibly drag me into the waves deeper and deeper until I had no choice but to beg him for help or resign myself to drowning. I did not like either of those options.

I had to come up with some plan. I wasn’t going to tell anyone that I couldn’t swim, but there were a few nations who already knew. There was France of course. That frog new everything about me. I think that is part of why I hated him so much. He had seen me at my best and my worst and we had fought (and fucked) more times than I cared to count. Through all this however we had some how ended up coming out on the same side. We were reluctant allies and even more reluctant friends, but we were also very close. Francis knew every single one of my secrets and though I gave him no reason to he kept them. Could I ask him for help? I didn’t want to, but maybe he would be willing. No he would simply laugh at me and make lewd suggestions and insist that I learn to swim in the nude the pervert. I would think of something else.

What other countries knew of my problem? There was Spain. He had teased me about it several times in the past especially in out pirate days, but now one little slip of the tongue about his famous Spanish armada would shut him up more effectively than anything else. He was too oblivious and cheery to be mean about it. When it came to Antonio mean was never an issue. The problem with Toni was that he never knew when to shut up about anything. Not meaning to tell any kind of secret he would make some off handed comment about teaching me how to swim and in no time the entire world would know. I could tell him it was a secret, but with Antonio that wouldn’t make any difference. He could be far too dense. I had a feeling that in this case he would definitely not use discretion even if he had the ability to do so. No I couldn’t go to Toni. All that would accomplish would be alerting the entire world to my predicament which was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I would sooner go to Francis.

There weren’t too many other people who knew I couldn’t swim. It was a secret I guarded very closely. That was an idea. Who was closer than family. All of my brothers knew that I couldn’t swim. I wasn’t on speaking terms with most of my brothers of course. We still loved each other of course we were family, but we also hated each other because we were siblings. It’s a complicated relationship that only people with brothers would understand. I knew I could ask them for anything I just didn’t want to. Dylan and Seamus would have been the logical choice since me and Alistair always fought like cats and dogs, but oddly enough our constant fights had made me and Alistair closer. We always fought when we talked to each other but at least we did talk. I hadn’t talked to Seamus or Dylan in a few years and calling then up to ask for a favor probably wouldn’t go over well. I could probably get Alistair to come over if I tried. Of course if I asked Alistair to help me learn to swim his idea of teaching me would be to throw me into the deepest water he could find and laugh his arse off while I slowly drowned. The Kirklands were not known for being the most supportive family after all. No I couldn’t ask my brothers for help. I would end up in a worse state than I already am most likely traumatized and never wanting to go anywhere near the water ever again. No I had to think of something else.

Were there any countries I could ask? I had run out of countries that already knew. I supposed I could have sought out some of my other family, but none of them were overly fond of me at the moment. I could probably ask Canada if I could find him. If I weren’t so terrified of the ridicule I would get for it I would have just asked Alfred, but the boy would never let me live it down. I needed to figure this out on my own. I could go take classes, but that would never be fast enough. I didn’t need to learn how to swim I just needed to get rid of my fear of drowning for one day. If I could get through one day at the beach, then I could just continue my life free of swimming and never have to deal with it again. 

The answer was so simple when I through if it I didn’t know why it took me so long. Magic was the only possible answer to my problem really. This was exactly the sort of thing that magic was meant for after all. A simple spell would cure me of my fear of drowning and then Alfred could drag me to the beach any time he wished. I had a sinking feeling that his chosen time would be sooner rather than later after all I had already put it off with every excuse I had readily available. With this in mind I figured it was best to get to work right away. I would need to find the perfect spell. I needed to no longer fear water or drowning, but not to necessarily be fearless after all then I would be as fool hardy as Alfred was. It had to be tailored to me to just alter that one aspect if too many things changed then I would have to explain the whole horrid situation which would be even more humiliating than announcing to the whole bloody world that I couldn’t swim. 

~~~~~

After actually reaching my conclusion of what to do all the pieces came together faster than I anticipated. I would do the spell and then I could call up Alfred and agree that I would go to the god forsaken beach with the idiot if he would stop being so bloody annoying about it all the time. It was a fool proof plan. I would be cured of my fear we would spend a splendid day together and then I could reverse the spell when I got home no one being the wiser and never having to go to the beach again. There was no way this could go wrong. Granted things had a higher chance of going wrong when Alfred was involved, but it wasn’t as if he was going to be there for the actual spell or anything. 

I grabbed my long black cloak as I made my way towards the door leading to my basement. I felt a small thread of doubt as I descended into the underground room. I shook it away however. I always felt that small tremor when I was trying a spell I hadn’t done before, but it was nothing to worry about. It wasn’t like this spell could go wrong. This spell was dangerously simple actually. Unless something completely unforeseen were to happen there was no way I could mess this up. 

I stood over the bubbling mixture watching it change from and inky sort of black to a soft comforting deep green. A few words and a single droop of my blood should seal the spell and I would never fear the water again unless I wanted to. I took one final look at the book to make sure I had them right. I took a deep breath and started to recite to words. “Ullum vacumm a metu, metu liberate est” In English the words simply meant ‘free from fear, fear Is free.’ Nothing more was needed really as the only thing I wanted was to be free of my fear. There was no reason to complicate it after all. I took out a small dagger and took a deep breath. I didn’t remember exactly when I had gotten the dagger but it was better than using one of the kitchen knives surely. I pressed the dagger to my palm until the skin gave way. It would only take on drop of blood no need to cut deep.

“Iggy! Get you butt in gear I’m taking you to the beach old man!” I hadn’t heard him enter. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he just barged into my house really. He never was terribly good about the idea of privacy or personal space. Normally I didn’t mind nearly as much as I pretended to, but this was different. My hand slipped and I cut a long cut across my palm several drops of blood spilling into the green mixture. 

That wouldn’t have been such a large problem really if the door to my basement hadn’t then slammed open scaring me so that I then lost hold of the dagger dropping it along with more of my blood into the mixture. I looked up to the sunny American standing in the doorway to my basement down to the liquid that was now emitting smoke and glowing a deep murky red. “Oh Bugger.” I felt the explosion blow me backwards and crack my head against the stone wall. I saw Alfred walking down the stairs and managed to say two words before I passed out. “Bloody hell!”

**Author's Note:**

> Well I hope that you all enjoy the start of yet another muti-chapter story. I don’t know what happened to the Christmas fluff I wanted to write, but I know this isn’t it. The translation is from google so it might be a little wrong. If it is wrong just let me know the proper translation and I’ll fix it. I will also fix any other mistakes if you point them out. feedback feeds my stories so please tell me what you think. In case of confusion Dylan is Wales, Seamus is Ireland, and Alistair is Scotland. I AM working on the next chapter of Curiosity Isn't Just For Cats, and Boo! I promise but I needed to get this out or it would drive me crazy.  
> I hope you all enjoy even if it wasn’t at all Christmassy.  
> Winter-Storm


End file.
